


Like troubled water running cold

by ayellowcurtain



Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Other, Recreational Drug Use, Smut, Unsafe Sex, some other characters might show up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:55:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26482270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayellowcurtain/pseuds/ayellowcurtain
Summary: Constantin and Ismail are best friends. They do everything together. They share everything. They’ll fight whoever they need, nobody is getting in their way. Because it’s no fun if one is having a good time and the other isn’t. And life is too short, life can be too boring. Why not have a good time together? Kieu is fun in the form of a person, their close friend. Why not? She’s fun. Until she isn’t.
Relationships: Constantin Ostendorf/Ismail Inci
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!!!  
> So I finally have a longer fic! About a ship we don't even know yet, might not even be a ship! But it is here.  
> A few warnings: I might add some more tags as I go, but this fic is NOT AT ALL about teenage boys having exemplary behavior.  
> They're horny and reckless, mainly, but again, they're no example of what "good behavior" might be, please, this is just fiction.  
> So pay attention to the tags, everyone.  
> I'm actually really proud of this one, hope you guys enjoy it!

* * *

“You're such a fucking asshole, my god" He puts one hand behind his knee, the other one holding his left arm by his elbow, throwing his featherweight best friend to the other side of his bed, against the wall so he can lie down too.

“You deserve it" Ismail takes his shirt off, sitting on the mattress to carelessly toss it far away to land on the messy floor, in the middle of piles of dirty clothes, shoes, empty bags of chips, and water bottles everywhere.

Constantin shakes his head like a dog to dry his hair, smiling by the way Ismail is watching him. It’s not often that Ismail shows so clearly how into Constantin he is, so he takes advantage of these little moments.

“I’m the best friend anyone could have and you treat me like that.” He finally throws himself on his bed before Ismail can start relaxing, occupying all the space again.

“Do you think we have half an hour?” Ismail asks, looking out the window over him. The sun is starting to set, and no, Constantin doesn’t think they have half an hour, but they can make it work…

“Why?”

“Need to take a shower too,” Ismail says, turning his body to lie on his side, looking at Constantin. His mom will be home any minute now so Is will have to wait. They spent the whole day outside, enjoying the last day of nice weather before the first cold wave of the year comes. So they’re smelling a little bit, but it’s normal. Constantin can deal with sweaty Ismail for a few more hours.

“And why do you need half an hour to take a shower?” He asks, frowning and Ismail smiles, back to being his cocky self.

“That’s none of your business,” Ismail answers him, raising his eyebrows.

Constantin shrugs, finally managing to look away from the orange sky outside to stare at his best friend, “I can think of better things to do in half an hour.”

Ismail laughs and Constantin smiles because they both know they’re really good at it. Maybe addicted, some would say. And so half an hour is more than enough to have some good fun.

“I’ll wait then. For the shower and whatever option you’ll offer me.” Ismail decides, lifting his hips from the mattress, pulling the sheets from under him to cover himself.

Constantin watches, a little too hot for sheets, even after a shower. “Before the shower.”

“All right. Before the shower.” Ismail closes his eyes, his thin lips forming a strong line, the corners slightly up as he relaxes. And he doesn’t mind that Constantin watches him until he falls asleep almost ten minutes later. Constantin thinks about brushing Ismail’s thick, pitch-black curls with his fingers, it wouldn’t be the first time, but he decides against it.

He hears his mom getting home not long afterward, unlocking the door, and dropping her keys on the side table in the hall and so he gets up, putting some shorts to go greet her in the kitchen, trying not to act suspiciously as he grabs extra snacks and a big bottle of water to take to his bedroom once they finish their conversation about how their days went.

“I have lots of homework to do tonight,” he uses that excuse, and even though she’s not really buying it, she doesn’t question him and Constantin smiles, kissing her cheek, going back to his bedroom for the night. Maybe he’ll go out again for dinner, but he’s not sure. He’s not that hungry and he doesn’t want to leave Ismail another night there, smelling the food, not able to eat until later, when Constantin’s parents fall asleep and he sneaks out to the kitchen to get him some real food.

It’s not easy to hide someone inside your bedroom for so long. It’s been weeks and Constantin can tell his parents are starting to suspect something is going on. They leave for school before his parents so they have some time to eat a proper breakfast and when they get home, Constantin’s parents are usually still working so, again, they have time to relax around the house, eat some lunch his dad probably left for him inside the fridge.

A week ago, Constantin noticed that the food his dad left for him was suddenly so much more than what he usually makes. They didn’t talk about it, but Constantin got so paranoid that he started to notice his parents looking at him for too long sometimes and he knew they were running out of time.

He kept thinking of an explanation he could use once his parents found out, but he couldn’t lie to himself, he was getting scared of their reaction. Ismail is his best friend, they’ve known each other for almost ten years. Constantin drags him to every family vacation, his parents know and love him so much, but Ismail still ran away from home without telling his parents where he was going or when he would come back.

He wouldn’t, Constantin wouldn’t let him, but that’s only that simple between them. He’s sure his parents won’t be too happy with their decision.


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

“Come on…” Constantin is a dead weight after a very long night partying. Ismail is struggling, trying to get them to their bedroom without waking up Cons’ parents, but Constantin is too big, too heavy. Too fucking clumsy.

After way too many breaks - Constantin is basically sleepwalking and Ismail isn’t strong enough to carry him quickly - they’re finally safe inside. Ismail can finally breathe, letting go of Constantin to do whatever he wants to do now. Ismail could only think of getting caught and how bad he would feel, so being inside this tiny bedroom never felt so good. It’s not even that tiny but it was definitely made for one person. And Constantin already counts as one and a half with his long legs and arms and his complete lack of understanding of how tall he is.

Ismail has nowhere else to go, but he’s not at all proud to be living in Cons’ place without his parents knowing or letting him be there. They all have a great relationship, but Ismail is sure there are limits and he and Constantin both ignored completely when they decided not to tell Ismail was living there.

While he’s still there, leaning against the door to breathe for a moment, he watches as his best friend - and lover sometimes - takes all his clothes off, managing to drag himself to his bathroom slowly.

Ismail has seen him naked more times than he can count, but this is the first time he really pays attention after a night like this. Constantin still had some of Kieu’s lipgloss all over his face, Ismail could smell it while they were walking home so close together. And he can see the scratches on Cons’ back and ass too. But he’s happy too, Ismail tells himself. He still tastes Constantin’s cheap beer on his tongue and he remembers the way Constantin was looking at him at all times.

It was a good night, they’re happy, but Cons is right about the shower, they do need it. Ismail can hear him turning the water on, echoing around the quiet house, and a second later, Constantin grunts loudly and Ismail rolls his eyes, rushing to the bathroom door.

“Shut up! It’s fucking late.” Constantin looks at him like he forgot Ismail was in his bedroom. His cheeks get so red when he’s that drunk and that high, he looks so sexy.

“Sorry…” Constantin looks up, letting the water hit his face directly, seeming more awake with the cold water, “won’t you join me? I’m sure there’s still some come on you somewhere.”

“Such a charming prince…” Ismail takes his clothes off and joins Constantin under the shower, needing to remind himself as well of how late it is, because the water is freezing cold.

So they make it quick. Or try to. When Constantin comes closer, hovering over him, his hands touching Ismail’s face gently, running his fingers through his hair, then it feels like it’s a lifetime. His eyes are still slow and fuzzy, but Ismail knows he’s actually looking, taking him in. He stands on his tiptoes and kisses Constantin. Wraps his arms around Cons’ neck and kisses him slowly. They finally clean themselves up, share another long, lazy kiss and get out of there, drying themselves and for once, Ismail is happy of how small Constantin’s bedroom suite is. Only five, maybe six steps and they’re out of the bathroom and lying in bed, crawling to their respective sides like they’re an old couple.

Since Ismail is not even supposed to be here, he sleeps on the right, against the wall, under the window, in case someone opens Constantin’s bedroom door, his giant figure can try to hide Ismail behind him.

In theory, it works very well, but the one time they forget to lock the door, too tired and high to remember about the lock, Ismail wakes up to a sudden movement. He opens his eyes and Constantin is there, propped on his elbow, but Ismail can still see his mom in front of them, tall and blond like her son, looking like a model, but obviously looking at him.

“Breakfast is ready. We’ll wait for you two.”

Ismail suddenly remembers how both of them didn’t have the strength to even put clothes on to go to bed, so he sits on the bed once they’re alone again, sighing in relief as he sees both of them covered enough that Cons’ mom didn’t see her son and his best friend cuddling naked.

Constantin’s parents are the most liberal adults Ismail has ever met, they told them so many stories about how hippie they were back in the day, they go to every riot they can. Ismail is sure they would be okay with them being in a relationship. But it’s not that easy.

“Did she say anything?” He finally asks and Constantin finally breathes again, slowly lying down, clearly freaking out, his chest moving so fast, covering his eyes with both his hands.

“No, just poked me and I jumped.” Ismail can’t help but examine what he can see of Constantin - mostly his chest and everything above - and, thankfully, there are no hickies or scratches. Maybe this will just be a “you should have told us, we would help.” type of conversation.

Ismail hopes that’s it. He can’t go back home, he would much rather sleep on the streets if it comes to it.

“Hey.” Constantin’s hand on his neck makes him close his eyes, relax for a second, “You’re not going back home. If it comes to it, we’ll both move out and that won’t leave them any choice. If you go, I go.”

Ismail swallows all his worries, smiling at Constantin, looking so handsome lying down on his pillow, completely bare under the sheets. His skin is still a little golden from their wild summer, but his paleness is starting to show and Ismail is happy about it. Constantin looks good anyway, but he’s usually as white as one can be, so it feels like home watching his pale skin slowly come back.

“Let’s not freak out just yet. We’ll go make our saddest eyes ever. I trust you can be a very good actor, especially right now. Oh, mamma, my best friend is homeless, his parents are monsters! Please let him stay! He gives me the best sex I ever had.”

Constantin laughs, finally starting to move, choosing some clean clothes to put on, thinking so much about every piece Ismail starts to think he’s going on a date or something.

He lets Constantin walk out first and he follows closely, constantly bitting the inside of his check without even noticing, sitting down right next to his best friend around the big, rounded table with a big breakfast waiting for them and two very serious parents staring at their every move.

“Good morning, sweetie. And Is.” Constantin’s mom says and Ismail wants to open a hole underneath him and hide forever.

His dad sighs, not angry, just maybe disappointed, looking from one to the other.

“For how long has this been going on?”

Constantin finally looks up so abruptly Ismail looks at him, wondering if he’s okay. He opens his mouth and frowns a little bit and Ismail knows he’s ready to argue for as long as his parents want to.

“His dad is a fucking monster-”

“No cursing, please.” His mom says calmy, almost a whisper, with a hint of a smile at the corners of her lips, letting her son continue. He didn’t even notice her smiling, still staring at his dad because they all know he’s the one that needs to be convinced.

“His dad is a monster. His mom is blind or something. Ismail is not going back there.” Ismail bites his nails, thinking he should have painted his nails so the black nail polish didn’t make him look this messy. He didn’t plan on getting caught, obviously, but he knew this day would come and he wishes he looked a little more put together. Like Constantin’s parents could look at him and know they could trust him to behave himself and stay.

“I’m sorry. I asked him if I could stay for a few days.” Constantin looks at him for a second, then back to his dad.

“They had an argument, it was late and Ismail called me. This was weeks ago, probably over a month.”

“A month?!” His parents ask in unison, both sitting straighter now and Ismail is bitting the inside of his cheek again, starting to leave a mark already.

“Yes! A month! He’s not leaving!” Constantin sits closer to the table too, looking at his mom now.

They all stay silent for a long time. Ismail looks up through his lashes. Constantin is leaning against his chair again, waiting for the veredic just like Ismail is doing. He really doesn’t want to go back home, ever. But he doesn’t want to cause any trouble to Constantin. He’s so chill 99% of the time, but when he’s angry, it’s hard to make him calm down and Ismail doesn’t want to bother him, doesn’t want his best friend to live arguing with his parents constantly because of him.

“I can leave.”

“You’re not leaving.” Constantin cuts him right away, looking at him. His cheeks are red again, he’s angry, a deep crease forming in between his eyebrows like Ismail just said something offensive.

“Constantin…” his dad warns, and Constantin looks back at him right away.

“If he’s leaving, then I’m leaving. It’s easy as that.”

His parents exchange a look, clearly with very different opinions. Cons’ mom is trying to say, honey, let them be boys. Whatever. Ismail is no trouble. And the dad is arguing, this is not right. We have to talk to his parents.

“No, it’s not that easy.” His dad finally looks back at Constantin, annoyed.

“Yes. It is. You choose now what you want us to do.”

Constantin is being unreasonable, but Ismail doesn’t say a word. He wants to stay and he wants Constantin to make that happen for both of them.

-

It’s not even eleven yet and Ismail feels exhausted, ready for another eight hours of sleep. That breakfast felt like a business meeting or a bad first date.

“I knew they weren’t going to let you go back there,” Constantin says, exhaling so loudly Ismail is sure he feels tired too, that a huge weight has been lifted off of his shoulders.

“You threatened to leave too. It’s not like they had much choice.”

Ismail looks around, all the mess they are constantly making, letting it pile around the corners and now he feels guilty. The towels from last night are still on the floor, leaving a trail from the bathroom floor to the bed. He grabs them and all the dirty clothes they’ve been throwing everywhere, waiting for the perfect opportunity to wash and dry them while Constantin’s parents were at work.

He puts everything inside the huge bag hanging behind the door that’s exactly for dirty clothes, he needs to stand on his tiptoes to push everything down so it can all fit.

“Hey, we’re all going to the park close to Nora’s place. How much time you need?”

Ismail sighs. They didn’t do anything last night after the shower and they definitely didn’t do anything this morning, so he doesn’t need a shower right now. But he would love to paint his nails.

“One hour.”

Constantin rolls his eyes, sprawled on his bed, texting the others. He probably needs just five minutes.

The conversation wasn’t easy. It’s easy now that they know Ismail can stay, but it was a lot of long, awkward, heavy silence while passing the bread, the butter, the coffee. Constantin had made up his mind and they all knew he would leave if Ismail had to go.

Now they only had to grab his things at his old house. Cons’ mom offered to buy him a bed and Constantin said they could share his bedroom. Ismail had to stop himself from smiling and saying he didn’t need a bed, Constantin’s was just fine.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Violence (the part will be in between the "-")

* * *

  
  
  


Constantin finally manages to convince Ismail to go back to his house. Ismail is amazing at choosing perfect outfits, but they can’t spend another day sharing all of Constantin’s clothes. And he just needs to make this official already. Constantin wants Ismail completely out of his parents’ lives. So he needs to grab all his belongings from their place and move to Constantin’s house for good. 

It’s not going to be easy. It’s not easy already, with Ismail being a brat, giving him the silent treatment since he decided they would go today to pick up all his things. The chances of it all going wrong are so high, Constantin is ready for the worst case scenario. Ismail left after a big fight with his mom when his dad wasn’t home. He ignored every phone call or message since then. 

Ismail’s relationship with his parents has always been bad, and it only got worse since he came out. Constantin can’t help but think what their reaction would be if they knew about him and Is. Trying to explain how they have sex not just with each other but, sometimes, with guests would probably make Ismail’s parents so pissed and disgusted.  _ Fucking conservatives.  _

The taxi drive back to Ismail’s place is long and quiet. Ismail is in the worst possible mood. Constantin tells him how they need to be quick and he doesn’t get an answer, again, but he doesn’t hold it against his best friend, knowing how hard it is for him to come back, even though he’ll never admit it. 

It’s completely dark when they get there, standing in front of the old house, all lights off inside, which is a good sign, the sign they were hoping to see. Ismail still has his keys, but Constantin steals it from his hand, getting inside first. 

Everything is like he remembers: in the same place since they were kids, smelling bad, like a house that doesn’t know what open windows or doors are. It’s not in bad taste, but Ismail’s grandmother probably bought all the furniture eighty years ago and she was rich. And his parents didn’t care one bit to organize, clean, or redecorate, ever. They did learn pretty quickly how to spend all their money and go bankrupt. 

Constantin stops staring at the house he used to visit daily when Ismail walks by him, purposefully bumping his shoulder against Cons’ as he rushes upstairs where he used to sleep. 

When he gets to the bedroom, Ismail is already carelessly throwing all his clothes into one of Constantin’s empty bags they brought with them. For once he’s not being careful not to crumple his fancy silky shirts or scarfs. He’s not making jokes or flirting or anything. Ismail is scarily quiet and serious, not wasting a second, needing to get out as fast as he can. So Constantin doesn’t try to make conversation either, opening the empty suitcase he brought upstairs and putting it on the bed, opening Ismail’s mini closet, folding everything in half, with the hangers and everything, putting inside the suitcase, just trying to use every space wisely so he can fit everything. 

He’s so on edge that he doesn’t know how long it takes them to put everything away. Ismail is dragging the bag on the hallway floor to his bathroom when they hear the door downstairs being closed, the lights turning on. 

“Ismail ?” The male, disgusting voice asks, still downstairs, and Constantin shoves the last few pieces of clothes inside the suitcase, closing and locking it before putting it on the floor. Ismail is emptying his drawers directly inside the bag and Constantin puts the suitcase close to them, closing the bag too because they don’t have more time. Ismail can buy his skincare products all over again. 

The closer they’re to the door when they run into Ismail’s parents, the better. He won’t let anyone touch Ismail ever again. They need to go. 

Ismail grabs the suitcase and starts walking downstairs, Constantin can see how purple his pale fingers are getting from holding it too tightly. He puts the bag over his shoulder and follows Ismail. His mom is close to the door, finally finding her son at the stairs. Constantin can see Ismail’s dad shadow to the left of the stairs. 

“Where do you think you going?” he asks Ismail and he doesn’t answer, but his mom stops in front of him, her hands on Ismail’s shoulders. 

Constantin can’t hear what they’re saying, but it doesn’t look amicable. When he stops at the last step, hearing how loud the conversation is starting to get, he feels a heavy hand trying to hold the bag with Ismail’s clothes. 

“He’s not taking anything from here.” The dad argues, trying to make Constantin give the bag back. 

-

“This is not yours! Don’t touch me!” Constantin pushes the man’s hand away from his arm, holding the bag with Ismail’s clothes tighter so his dad can’t grab it. He’s not thinking about how much bigger the man is or how quickly this is escalating. The huge hand that was squeezing his is now pulling the bag from his hands like its nothing. And the next thing Constantin knows, he’s punching Ismail’s dad in the face with all the strength he has in his body. His anger filling his every thought, desperate to get out of there, to be somewhere safe with Ismail. He’s not about to let them win again. Ismail is not staying and so he needs his stuff back.

Constantin is not new to fighting, but he won’t win this one easily, so he holds the man to leave very little space and time for him, punching him again and again. 

There are arms everywhere, punches hitting him and him hitting something soft enough for his brain to understand it’s someone, but he can’t think or see what’s going on, he just hopes he’s getting his punches in that ugly face hard enough to make his point clear. He’s not leaving Ismail. 

-

Before he can understand what’s going on, he’s being pushed on his feet again, being pushed out of the old house, grabbing the bag on the floor on his way out. Everyone is screaming and he’s saying how Ismail will never step inside that house again. They’re both outside somehow, Ismail is collecting some of his things from the dead grass, grabbing his suitcase, shoving everything inside. 

Constantin’s hand is hurting so bad it feels like his heart is pounding inside of it, he can barely move his fingers. He brushes the back of his hand over his head where he feels something slipping and he looks at it, finding his blood staining his hand. 

“Shit.” The door is slammed behind them and Constantin walks closer to his best friend, helping Ismail close his broken suitcase enough for them to find a way to go home, “Are you okay ?”

He puts his hand on Ismail’s shoulder, trying to make him look up, but Ismail is barely listening, sighing, standing straight and brushing his curls back, away from his eyes. 

He’s mostly okay from what Constantin can tell in the dark, his clothes are messy, but that’s it, and Constantin sighs in relief, looking around. It’s late and this is a shitty neighborhood, they have no car or bike and way too many things to carry. 

“I have no money on me. You?” Constantin tries to search for his things, his phone and wallet still in the hidden pocket inside his jacket, but he has no actual money. 

Ismail pats his clothes in search of something and when he finds it, he shows Constantin the wallet. Not his pink, shiny wallet. A very masculine, old one. 

“Did you steal this from your dad?” 

Ismail shrugs, dragging the suitcase to the sidewalk, out of his parents’ property, “You two were busy arguing, I knew we would need money for a fucking taxi.” 

Constantin shakes his head, finally starting to walk away from the dead front yard they used to play on when they were little. They walk in silence to the main road a few streets down to find a cab. They walk slowly to the main street while Ismail is asking for a car. Everything hurts, but Constantin doesn’t tell Ismail. They’ll worry about that when they’re home.

Constantin puts everything inside the trunk as soon as the black car parks in front of them, while Ismail sits inside, lying to the driver about how Constantin is a famous biker that had a bad accident earlier. Ismail is talking to the driver all the way back home and Constantin mainly listens. His best friend can get over things very quickly, he’s ridiculously good at being practical, but today’s situation wasn’t a normal one. And no matter how much he tries - and succeeds - hiding how he feels, Constantin knows the fight messed up with them a little bit. 

As they get home, Constantin walks in first. His parents are gone for the weekend, but he checks anyway, calling their names, not hearing a sound as a response. He drops the bag in the hall for him to deal with later and takes his shoes off, watching Ismail do the same, kicking his boots off his feet. The adrenaline of punching a guy he hates so much has worn out of him and now Constantin is a minute away from falling asleep standing up if he doesn’t get to his bed quick enough, but he’s also very dirty and with dry blood pulling his skin all over his head and hands. 

He needs a shower, but he goes to his bedroom, sitting on his bed for a minute before the shower, grunting, feeling so fucking tired, he can only manage to move his eyes, following Ismail. He’s looking at Constantin like he’s a broken puppy while taking his jacket off. Constantin is so tired he can’t even argue, ask Ismail to stop being weird. 

Instead, Ismail walks around his bedroom, getting inside the bathroom, coming back with the first aid kit. 

Constantin barely moves, but he does let Ismail do whatever he needs to be at peace with himself. He cleans the cut Constantin felt earlier close to his hairline first and thoroughly. Constantin can see when he puts the dirty cotton pads carefully on Cons’ thigh not to get the sheets dirty and then moves on to his right hand, sitting next to Constantin on the bed, carefully cleaning every knuckle.

“You should wash it.” Ismail looks up through his long, dark, thick lashes and Constantin is struggling to keep his eyes open. 

“I won’t.” He manages to say somehow, thinking about lying down, sleeping for twelve hours, at least. 

“I’m aware.” 

Constantin nods his head, looking at Ismail, even thinking about lying down sounds like a lot of work. 

“Can you take my shirt off?” 

Ismail smiles a lot like he normally would, already pushing Constantin’s button-up shirt down his shoulders, big enough where neither of them has to worry about the buttons, moving on to the white shirt underneath it, his always freezing cold hands with long, strong fingers touching his skin instead of the shirt as he pushes it up and out of Constantin’s head. 

Once finally free of his dirty shirt, Constantin melts down, finding his mattress. It feels extra soft and comfortable tonight. 

“Pants too?” Ismail asks, already unbuttoning his old black jeans, Constantin puts his feet flat against the mattress, lifting his hips to make his best friend’s work a little easier. Any other night he would love to find a way to make this sexual because they’re so good at it, but tonight he just nods his head, already turning his body to the side while Ismail is still holding his calves as he struggles to pull the jeans completely off of him. 

Constantin is slipping into the most delicious sleep when he feels a weight on top of him, Ismail’s comforting smell, even with so much sweat coming from both of them. 

“Thank you for today. I love you.” Ismail plays with his hair and Constantin smiles, ready to feel that for the rest of the night. 

“I won’t ever let you go. I love you.” Ismail kisses his whole neck slowly and Constantly falls asleep as he feels the weight moving away from him, “bring...your things here.” 

He can’t wait for the answer, too tired to care. 

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally back! Sorry for the long wait, but it's finally here. 
> 
> I added some tags, so make sure to read them to make sure of what you're getting yourself into!   
> Here's where most of the smut is, so be aware, and the boys are being reckless and dumb, so don't be like them and use condoms! Please!

* * *

Constantin waits impatiently on his bed, hearing Ismail and his terrible taste in music while making a mess in the kitchen, trying to make them breakfast. Ismail can’t cook even if his life depends on it, but after last night, Constantin doesn’t feel like arguing so he didn’t say a word when Ismail finally left his side for the first time since they got home yesterday. 

He sounded like it was offensive that he was getting up to make some food and Constantin didn’t have enough strength or will in him to try to make him stay so he went back to sleep, letting Ismail do whatever he wants, as long as there’s something for him to eat and the kitchen doesn’t catch on fire. 

He has a better idea of what he wants for breakfast, but he decides to wait, moving to lie on his back even though the new position makes him have to face the fact that it’s already bright outside, as bright as a day can be. 

Ismail left his bedroom wearing his underwear - he likes them very tight and Constantin doesn’t do well with that, his mind always going to the same place - and one of his Britney Spears t-shirt, another one of Constantin’s weaknesses. And he can’t stop thinking about it. Nothing better to cure his hangover after a fight, his brain still too big for his head, pounding against his skull, making everything hurt. Only the best sex of his life with the best person he knows. 

Constantin sits on his bed very carefully, trying to ignore his aching muscles, leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs, covering his entire face with his hands, needing an extra second in the dark to recover his senses before sitting up straight, staring at the door as he takes his underwear off slowly, trying to move as little as possible while doing so, pulling the sheets to cover between his legs. The music finally dies down and Constantin feels anxious for some reason, putting his hand on top of his head, messing up his hair, hoping it looks somewhat good after what happened last night, and countless hours of sleep. 

Ismail’s morning voice, whispering the lyrics of the song that was just playing gets louder and louder as he gets closer to the door, stopping when he sees Constantin there, sitting on the bed, naked, barely covered by the white sheets. 

“You’re awake…” 

Constantin nods, still feeling a little lightheaded from sleeping for almost twelve hours. 

Ismail smiles, carefully putting the tray on top of the dresser right next to the door, walking to Constantin, finally. He takes his shirt off while standing right in between his legs, taking his time to take all his jewelry off too. Constantin sighs, kissing right on top of his belly button before throwing himself back on the mattress, lying down comfortably, lifting the sheets so Ismail can join him. 

“Everything okay?” Constantin doesn’t want to talk, so he nods again, propping himself on his elbow, looking at Ismail lying next to him again, lifting his hips carefully to take his underwear off now that they’re under the sheets. 

Constantin feels weird going this slow and aware of things. They’ve done this more times than it’s probably healthy, but this feels a lot different, kissing Ismail because he wants to, because Ismail is the best, and because Constantin loves him so much it physically hurts. 

He tries to go back to not thinking about the meaning of that, about anything actually, kissing Ismail’s neck, hearing his breath hitch against his ear, his always cold body quickly getting way too warm, but Constantin presses their bodies even closer because it feels even better like this. 

Ismail slowly opens his legs, and Constantin kisses his cheek, his mouth, looking at him while lying on top of him, fitting perfectly in between his legs. They move like they’re made just for this, and Constantin catches himself staring and not doing anything else, watching Ismail’s long and dark curls sprawl all over his white pillow, for once not covering his eyes or any part of his perfectly made face. 

There’s always a second before the chase to their release, waiting for the second when Ismail always stops everything to wiggle himself up on the bed so he can reach the nightstand where Constantin keeps his condoms. He always has them, especially now that they live together, and they seem to get through them rather quickly. Ismail doesn’t move up but he looks at Constantin, again with more feelings and thoughts than they’ve ever put into this. Instead of his arms going up on the mattress, one of his hands goes under the sheets, in between them and Constantin has to stop his breath not to moan too loudly even though they’re alone at home. 

It lasts so much longer, but Constantin feels like he’s right on the edge at all times. They keep going from fast to excruciatingly slow, and everything all over again, not wanting it to end just yet. Ismail is different, just looking at him like this, looking deep inside Constantin’s eyes, so calm and slow in everything he does, every touch feeling meaningful, and that makes Constantin want to come. 

He’s not putting on a show for once, taking his time to be present and enjoy every movement they make in sync. He looks at Constantin when he manages to keep his eyes open, smiling softly, a little crease forming in between his eyebrows every once in a while as a reminder for Constantin to go slowly, more careful, arching his back from the mattress, them going still while he gets used to how this feels with no condom, trying to kiss, but mostly just breathing into each other’s mouths.

He feels his sweat starting to pool at the back of his hair, in between his shoulder blades, like Ismail’s nails aren’t enough to make goosebump run wild on his body. Pressing Is flat against the bed again, putting one arm around Is’, grabbing his shoulder from behind to ground himself, hiding his face against his neck, not able to hold his weight completely anymore, his arm shaking, catching up to how overwhelmed he feels inside his foggy head. 

Ismail holds him comfortably, both arms wrapped around his neck, pushing himself down at his own pace, and Constantin can’t hold it anymore, moaning loud against his neck, holding his waist so tightly his fingers go a little numb too. 

In what feels like a second, the white stars blinking inside his eyelids turn into a milky white canvas, and Constantin opens his eyes, slowly starting to be aware of every inch of his body again, mostly soft all around. 

He feels self-aware suddenly, holding his weight up not to crush Ismail for another second, feeling himself slip out of him, pulling a slow moan out of both of them. 

He bumps his nose against Is’ as a silent apology and Ismail smiles a little, playing with Constantin’s hair, putting it back, probably just making it spiky. 

“Did I hurt you?” He asks, afraid of the answer, not sure for how long he was there, dead on top of Ismail. 

“No, it’s okay.” Constantin kisses him softly because he can before moving to his side, making sure to keep the sheets still covering both of them. He feels the mess they made on his stomach and his back slowly sticking to the sheets, dangerously close to the wall under the window and behind him, emanating a colder air against his still overheating body. 

Constantin can’t help but look down and under the sheets, a little proud of himself, and happy that Ismail enjoyed it this much too. 

“You’re so dumb!” Ismail pushes him lightly, but Constantin falls on his back, smiling, lying on his side, adjusting his pillow over his biceps, as close as he can to Ismail. 

“Sorry, I just...blacked out for a second, I guess.” 

Ismail rolls his eyes, his already back to cold hands going from one side of Constantin’s stomach to the other while he sits on top of Constantin, the sheets pooling around his skinny thighs, “And so you needed to  _ check _ .” 

Constantin hums, still tired, but feeling light and somehow rested enough to sit again, wrapping his arms around Ismail’s slim waist, kissing his chest that’s getting blotchy as he cools down. 

“Yeah because I didn’t remember. Didn’t want to leave you neglected.” He puts his hand in the back of Is’ neck, pulling him down for a kiss, a little too slow and tired. 

Falling back asleep sounds like the best thing ever, but Constantin is way too dirty to do it. 

“Come take a bath with me.” He whispers against Ismail’s lips and Is nods, sucking his bottom lip. 

Ismail gets up from his lap, standing up on the bed, jumping to the floor, scrunching his curls while he waits for Constantin. He moves a lot slower, it’s not intentional, but he feels like he weighs two, maybe three times heavier this morning. 

He turns his legs to the side of the bed, dragging himself to the edge to get up on his feet. He stretches himself all the way, his hands touching his whole torso on the way down because it feels nice, his skin still a little sensitive, and he finds some spots that are sore and probably a little swollen, but Ismail doesn’t let him analyze it any longer, grabbing his hand, helping Constantin start walking to the bathroom. 

His reflection on the bathroom mirror takes him by surprise; he knew he got into a fight last night but he forgot it could leave bruises. One side around his left eye is forming a half moon of a bruise, getting darker this morning, from the top of his eyebrow to his cheekbone. 

The front left piece of his hair is tinted with a hint of pastel pink, his blood that Ismail probably didn’t have the time to clean up completely before Constantin fell to the side, already asleep. 

He looks to the shower, the water already running hot, and Ismail is under the stream of water, looking at his feet, his curls stretching down while he puts his hands against his face, rubbing it gently. 

Constantin pushes the bathroom door until it’s almost closed, hoping they’ll soon be inside a comfortable sauna. The space is tiny, especially for both of them to use at the same time, but it’s good, especially today. Ismail bumps against him constantly while turning from facing the wall to looking at Con, his hands exploring Constantin’s body to help the water get everything, making him warm too. It feels so nice, Constantin exhales without meaning to, so ready to change positions with Ismail so he can feel the actual warm water help his sore body. 

“Can we go again?” He asks, looking down at Ismail, putting his hair behind his ear. 

“Do you think you can do it?” Ismail teases right back, pouting a little and making himself look smaller almost under Constantin, his hands finally resting against his abs. 

“Fuck off.” Ismail smiles as Constantin puts his hands on his sides, turning Ismail back to face the wall in front of them. 

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

* * *

Ismail is tired but unable to fall back asleep, too worried. He keeps thinking about the mess they made. They’re usually too dumb so it’s not natural that it comes to them before anything that they should be using protection.

Constantin was the first person Ismail ever had sex with years ago, so it’s normal that he doesn’t remember to grab a condom or two when they’re kissing, making out, dragging each other to the nearest bed. Constantin is family, his best friend, and the person who knows him best. Ismail would trust him blindly with his life if needed. And last night he didn’t make the conscious decision to grab condoms because of it.

It was amazing, the best sex they ever had but Ismail can’t stop thinking about the lack of condoms. His brain is now foggy from his tiredness and sore muscles, not able to provide him with visual proofs if they were as careful as they could be while not using protection.

He feels like crying, calling himself the worst names he can think of inside his head. Constantin is still sleeping, hugging the pillow underneath him, and Ismail is angry, pissed at them but he still manages to find Constantin so fucking attractive while sleeping. He wants to crawl on top of him and lie down, fall back asleep while trying to sync his and Constantin’s breathing rhythm without worrying about what can be happening inside his body. 

He doesn’t have the time to lie down and relax. Constantin slowly moves himself to lie on his back, Ismail can see his long legs shaking while stretching underneath the sheets, one of his arms is covering his eyes until he gets used to the brightness of the morning, and it slips back to the top of his head once his eyes are settled with the natural light coming from the open windows at the top of the walls, letting them finally see each other.

“Someone is awake early…”

Ismail grabs as much of the sheet as he can and squeezes it tight. The raspy voice is not helpful.

“We fucked up last night.”

Constantin sighs, still waking up ever so slowly, raising his eyebrows like this a funny joke or just what they really did last night.

“I mean it! We didn’t use condoms.” 

By the way that Constantin looks at him and carefully sits on the bed, suddenly very awake, Ismail guesses Constantin can feel how worried he is by the way that he sounds and looks.

“I know...I’m sorry. I didn’t think you wanted to use it, but I should have asked.”

“Yes, you should!” Ismail gets even more scared now that Constantin is also worried, apologizing for not using protection when Ismail wasn’t even completely sure that there was no condoms. He bends his legs and puts his elbows on his knees, covering his face with his hands. This can’t be happening!

“Is…” Constantin sits closer, one leg under the tunnel that Ismail’s legs make, his arms on his back, rubbing it gently up and down, kissing his temple, “It’s not that serious. We don’t go fucking everyone we meet.”

Ismail slams his hand against the mattress, looking at Constantin, his arousal quickly being replaced by frustration because Constantin doesn’t seem to get it.

“Constantin! You basically fuck anyone that has a hole in them.”

Constantin lets him go, pushing himself back to create a small distance between them, “That’s not true! Making out doesn’t necessarily mean sex.”

Ismail doesn’t know what else to say, he doesn’t want to argue what is sex and what’s not. So he gets up, finding all their clothes still on the floor and he grabs everything his arms can hold at once, making a pile at the door so he can take it to wash once he’s put some clothes on and when they take the sheets off to wash them too.

Constantin is standing on his way when he comes back, the sheets around his waist, one hand holding it by his side. Ismail sighs, rolling his eyes.

“Put some clothes on, and let’s go.”

“Huh?” Constantin walks weirdly trying not to step on the sheets while he opens the drawers on his dresser, throwing a clean shirt and underwear on his bed so he can put them on, grabbing one of his pants behind the door where there’s an open closet for his pants and jackets.

Now everything is a little mixed with Ismail’s things but you can clearly tell what is whose, Constantin is mostly black and white and Ismail is the complete opposite. They don’t bother organizing sides to each closet because they’ll end up sharing clothes anyway.

“We’re gonna get tested. So you’ll stop complaining about it and hating me for it.”

Ismail stops, thinking about both of them staring at a nurse or doctor that probably had too many hours of work to be nice to stupid teenagers needing to check if they’re clean after being dumb and reckless during sex.

But they don’t have another option.

Constantin is pissed at him and Ismail doesn’t care about it. Constantin can be the biggest baby sometimes when you have to put him in his place. He puts his clothes on without saying a word, which is a miracle, not even acknowledging that Ismail is there, sharing a small space with him, trying to put his clothes on too.

The bike ride is not that long from home to whatever clinic they’re going, Ismail follows Constantin because he doesn’t know exactly where it is, still not bothering to talk to each other.

When Constantin stops, Ismail does the same, following him to park their bikes together, locking it right in front of the building, walking inside right next to Constantin, suddenly his nerves catching up to him. They coming together feels like they’re about to get caught doing something they shouldn’t do. Maybe it would be easier if they were alone or separated at least. Nobody would need to know who Ismail was having unsafe sex with but them standing there together feels like more than a hint as to how it happened.

Cons’ heavy hand on his shoulder makes him jump back to the present moment, following where his best friend is leading them to go, having already spoken to the middle-aged woman at the front desk.

Ismail is thankful he got too distracted to hear what Constantin told her they were here to do.

The waiting room has some people but not enough where they can’t find an empty row of chairs against the big windows to the street in the back where they can sit away from everyone else and wait.

Ismail crosses his arms tightly against his chest, looking at everyone else except Constantin on his side. From the corner of his eyes, he can see the long legs extended in front of him, tapping one of his feet against the old vinyl flooring, making it squeak sometimes.

Ismail doesn’t even know how these tests work, how reliable it is. He sees Constantin propping himself against his knees, coming so close their arms bump into each other.

“Are you still mad?” he whispers, and Ismail sighs, fixing his hair, looking at Constantin, talking low too.

“I wasn’t mad. I’m just worried.”

Constantin moves to lean back against his chair again, his tap against the floor a lot slower now, “It was just one time, don’t stress too much about it. We’re here, so relax.”

Ismail looks over his shoulder, frowning, seeing Constantin’s arm resting behind his chair.

“You know that’s not how it works, right? It doesn’t change anything if it’s the first, the second, the hundredth time.”

Constantin doesn’t answer, rolling his eyes and putting his arm on Ismail’s shoulder again, pulling him back too, his arm still behind him, his fingertips playing with his curls on the nape of his neck.

“Please stop worrying.” He whispers and Ismail tries, the last thing they need is to keep arguing while waiting around so many strangers.

Ismail leans against Constantin’s shoulder, looking at the nurses behind the counter, trying to guess who’s going to call their names.

He lifts his eyebrows when he notices the white rich boy sitting closer to the door, quietly staring at them over his expensive phone. Now that he’s staring like Constantin is doing something wrong while playing with his hair and Ismail is a horrible person for leaning so close to him he feels like making out just to make that asshole watch without saying a word about it.

Their names are called, and Ismail looks forward, finding a nurse standing next to the counter, holding some papers, waiting for them to stand up and follow her. Constantin goes first and Ismail follows, letting Constantin do all the talking, holding some papers for both of them which Ismail assumes are their files, telling nurses and doctors in the system that they’re there to get tested, waiting outside a room for the doctor to call them in.

It’s less bad and a lot quicker than Ismail anticipated, and there are not as many questions or weird looks from the doctor while giving them brand new tests, helping them do it but they do have to do a little more waiting back in the first waiting room for the results.

“I mean...this is a good thing to do…” Constantin whispers suddenly after a few minutes of no conversation, and Ismail looks back at him, his lips brushing against Ismail’s forehead when he talks, with a smile already on his lips like they’re not worrying anymore.

“What?”

“It means we don’t exactly need condoms…”

Ismail sighs, looking at his hands to not worry too much about where this conversation is going, trying to get rid of the black nail polish that insists on staying on his nails, “It would mean that if we were in a monogamous, closed relationship…”

Constantly laughs quietly like it’s funny and Ismail tries not to take it personally.

“You really think Kieu My is having that much fun without us?”

He doesn’t, at all. Kieu My probably behaves so much better than they could ever do. Ismail just doesn’t like the idea of sharing as much as he did when they started this mess. It’s nothing serious, obviously but it’s still them having sex with someone else that’s not each other. Constantin likes it too much for Ismail to ever think he’ll stop.

It was fun at the start but he feels like the more times they do it, the messier it can get. They’re risking all the relationships between the three of them by still having sex with each other occasionally.

“I don’t but that’s mostly why we use it. Because we’re not monogamous.” He tries to give the easier, shorter answer. Constantin kisses his temple a little too close to his ear.

“Didn’t think you wanted to be monogamous with anyone, ever.”

And he doesn’t have the time to let those words sink in. The nurse is back, giving them a little envelope with their names on the tag, already moving on to deal with her next patient. Ismail grabs the envelope from Constantin’s hand and rushes it to open it outside, the cold breeze not even bothering him, letting his curls fall into his eyes, at least they’re alone again, with nobody looking, waiting to see their results.

He rips the side of the envelope and puts his index finger inside, dragging it so he can fully open the package enough so he can grab the papers inside, trying to scan the text to find just a negative or positive type of answer to all his hours-long worries.

“Fucking negative!”

Constantin squeezes his shoulder and shakes him enough where Ismail can’t read anything in the paper he’s holding so carefully with both hands, still searching for where Constantin read that.

He lets go of one of his shoulders, pointing in the paper where it says both their results are negative.

“Fucking hell…”

“I told you!”

Ismail crumples the paper a little bit with the relief he feels, closing his eyes, able to take a deep breath in, exhaling loudly, relaxing his whole body, feeling how his neck and shoulders hurt now from being so tense for so long.

He feels high, that’s how happy he is. Constantin pulls the paper from his hand and smooths it against his thigh, folding it back to fit inside the envelope again.

“We should go home now.” Ismail feels brave from the relief, holding Constantin’s jacket, as close as they can be, staring at his naturally puffy and dry lips.

“I thought you didn’t like the idea.” He says back, putting the envelope in the back pocket of his loose jeans.

“I like it now.”


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

“Are you sure you're going?” Ismail asks because he could see earlier how hard it was for Constantin to make some movements while putting on his clothes, his face still very purple in some areas,, the outline of the bruises getting a hint of green or yellow, looking worse before it gets better. 

“Yes.” He fixes the collar of his white shirt, leaving the first few buttons open so anyone can see his bony chest, “You want to get rid of me?” He lifts his eyebrows, and Ismail rolls his eyes, pushing the end of his cigar against the street light pole so he can follow Constantin inside the Uber they asked to go to the party.

“No…”

“Yeah…” Constantin answers as an afterthought, opening the window on his side of the backseat, leaving as much room between them as possible, seeming a little agitated but Ismail doesn’t ask what’s going on. Deep inside he can tell things are changing between them, at least for him and the thought that it might not be what Constantin wants makes him a little disappointed, his ego hurt because Constantin probably just wants to keep things between them very casual. Ismail always thought he was the one to break someone’s heart, not the one to have his heart broken. 

They just had a couple of intense weeks, amazing sex for the past few days, and all of a sudden, Constantin is cold like a brick of ice and Ismail hates it, hates Constantin. 

The ride to the party is in complete silence, both of them looking out their windows until the car stops and Constantin jumps out of the car, barely waiting for Ismail for them to get inside. 

It’s probably just Ismail’s horrible mood getting the best of him but the house feels way too crowded, you can barely move inside, everyone is kind of sweaty already, too drunk and too loud, never moving out of his way. Ismail tries to breath as little air as possible while searching for their group in the crowd. 

Ismail really didn’t want to go, and he should have stayed home, not chainging his mind because Constantin was so ready to party all night long. They’re in opposite sides with their moods tonight so it’s for the best if they keep their distance. They’re always together but sometimes like tonight they would just bicker for any and everything. 

Constantin is so pumped he keeps looking around, seeing what he can do next, his head quietly moving to the beat of the music, drinking his beer slowly. Zoe and Kieu My are dancing around them and it’s not enough space so they move on to the dance floor and Kieu My drags Constantin with her, holding his hand, both of them laughing as they walk through the crowd to the dance floor. 

Ismail doesn’t feel like talking so he finds any excuse to go find a beer for himself, standing in a corner, lighting a cigarette while drinking his beer and watching the party, trying not to constantly watch the same person. He puts his beer on the windowsill and fixes his hair, checking his reflection on the glass, pulling his pants up to adjusting his shiny blouse. 

He finishes his beer and finds a new one to start, asking a cute boy to open it for him just for the fun of it, moving back to the windowsill he was using as stool. Finn is with them on the dance floor now and it looks like two couples dancing. 

It’s ridiculous how you can see from afar how they dance differently, finding a way to tell the other they would rather be doing something else. Ismail can only watch as Constantin stops dancing, walking upstairs, looking back to see Kieu My following him, clearly having one of those conversations with her where they’re having small talk but knowing very well where they’re going, and Constantin is not even thinking about looking around them, look for Ismail and check if he’s feeling like it. 

He’s not but it would make things a lot better if it crossed Constantin’s tiny brain to check with him, to change his mind and not go to whatever bedroom he’s going with Kieu My if Ismail told him he isn’t feeling like having sex with them tonight. They just got tested, and Ismail is sure Kieu My is not a problem but it bothers him so much that Constantin doesn’t think about giving them just one night between the two of them where they don’t really have to worry. Kieu My and Ismail are very close so she’ll never be the problem, is the idea of how little Constantin cares about Ismail that gets to him more than it should. Ismail doesn’t stop watching until the two disappear in the hallway upstairs, no lights on until he sees a hint of a yellow light being turned on and disappearing all of a sudden as someone closes the door. 

Zoe and Finn come back from the dance floor and go straight to the kitchen, coming back with as many shots as their four hands can carry and Ismail doesn’t care, drinking as many of them as he can take, one after the other, careful not to spill any on his friends that are carry so many small glasses. 

“Well, that was useless,” Finn complains and Ismail walks past them, saying more to himself that he’ll get some more for them. It’s the best part of going to these rich people’s parties: it’s an endless amount of alcohol. Ismail grabs some with his hands and holds the extra ones pressed between his forearms and chest. Before he can occupy both his hands, he drinks another one, leaving the empty glass on the long island in the middle of the kitchen. 

His stomach is empty, and hungry even, so he rushes back to the main area, hoping to quickly find Zoe and Finn again and get rid of all these glasses before he can break some when the alcohol quickly finds its way to his brain. He usually drinks slowly, like he doesn’t care about it so it’s not often that he gets badly drunk, and that’s all he wants right now. 

To puke, be carried, talk loudly without meaning to like everyone else always does. He tries to honestly smile at Finn when he finds them, and he helps Ismail put all their drinks down on top of the expensive glass sideboard behind the little corner of the living room they managed to conquer for right now. They raise their glasses and make a toast every time they’re about to take another shot, turning it upside down in one go, feeling the bitterness and the burning feeling slipping from their necks to the very middle of their chests. It’s the last thing Ismail clearly remembers.

He doesn’t remember how but he’s sitting on a couch suddenly, a slippy one, that in contact with his tailoring black pants makes him constantly slip to the edge. A hard hand tap his shoulder and he looks up, feeling slightly better with that tiny motion, seeing a blurry Finn offer him a big cup of something. Ismail doesn’t ask, unable to open his mouth or move his tongue, but he drinks it anyway, even quicker when his brain understands that it’s water. Delicious, freezing cold water. 

It doesn’t even hurt but definitely burns his chest, making it hurt a little bit less and different than the tequila and the heartbreak did earlier. Ismail sits up, putting his chest forward, regretting almost instantly when he feels the bitter taste of the alcohol quickly wanting to come back out. 

“I’m gonna go.” He’s almost sure he says it out loud, pushing himself up, feeling his legs a little wobbly. He doesn’t walk alone, though, he feels hands holding his arms tightly, squeezing his skin until he’s out the house, the loud music still pulsing inside his ears. 

Zoe is by his side when Finn rushes to the sidewalk and Ismail can hear in the very back of his mind Zoe complaining about something, and Finn waving at a specific black car that was slowly passing by them. He rushes back to them, and before he notices it, Ismail is inside a stranger’s car, and the car is moving, the driver doesn’t even acknowledge him and Ismail wonders if he’s worried Ismail might puke on his very clean and smelling nice car. 

He opens the door when the car finally stops, and thinks it’s best for him to crawl out of it, carefully closing the door with his feet. The driver looks out the pasenger window, asking something that Ismail is almost sure is if he’s okay so he shows the guy his thumb up and he drives off a moment later. 

It’s not a long walk to the door so Ismail tries to stand up very carefully, using his hands first to stand on his feet, taking his time with each step until he finds the door to lean against. Thankfully, it’s not locked so he pushes himself inside. 

It’s so very late, but Constantin’s parents are the heaviest sleepers Ismail has ever seen and they sleep upstairs so he doesn’t care about making noise, taking his boots off, leaving most of his clothes on the way to the bedroom he’s so used to finding in the dark. But dark and drunk is a lot harder. Somehow, he finds it, or something that’s comfortable and big enough for him to lie on. 

He just needs a moment, possibly a quick nap for the world to stop spinning around him so he can put himself up again to take a ice cold shower and eat something, bring a water bottle back to the bedroom so he can actually pass out for the night. 

The shower helps, but it was not as cold as Ismail was expecting, just cold enough for his brain to go back to thinking about Constantin fucking someone else as he’s drying himself with this soft towel when he’s done, all alone, in the dark still, with the whole house asleep. 

He looks over his shoulder to double check, thankful that he managed to clean all his puke on the shower floor so he doesn’t have to redo it in the morning. 

He doesn’t have the energy or the strength or the mood to look for pieces of clothes for him to sleep so he just grabs the top underwear he finds on top of Constantin’s dresser, right next to the door. His mom probably did their laundry and left their clothes there for them to put away properly. 

The door almost hits him when someone opens it. Constantin looks as surprised as he is to find someone else. He gets inside, already carrying a big bottle of water, and closes the door behind him. 

His hair is all messy which doesn’t happen often because of how thin and straight it is, it just happens on very specific occasions, Ismail thinks. His shirt is out of his stupid cargo pants, and his lips puffier than usual, a little bit chapped from probably kissing too much. 

“Are you okay?” He asks like he’s actually worried and Ismail wishes he could puke on command just to stain these stupid white pants that Constantin loves so much. 

He doesn’t answer, just adjusts the underwear on his waist, it’s clearly not his underwear or it wouldn’t be dancing on his hipbones like they are but he doesn’t feel like changing again, especially not now that Constantin is home, watching his every move, and so he walks slowly back to the bed, crawling to his side closer to the wall, rolling himself with the blanket so they won’t have to share one tonight. 

“Ismail.” Constantin says like he’s talking to his son and Ismail turns to face the wall, feeling his head starting to hurt, not sure if his struggle not to cry is making it worse. He’s tired but not at all sleepy. He can’t believe this is how his night went, how sad it is that he turned into this stupid person that cares so much about who someone else is fucking that he needs to get himself shitfaced to get over his own feelings. 

The person that just generally cares so much about someone else. Constantin clearly doesn’t feel the same. 

He is moving around the room, taking his clothes off slowly like he’s giving Ismail the extra time to start talking, leaving his clothes all on the floor with a heavy sound, taking a shower after, leaving the bathroom door open, the soft sound of water hitting tile almost lulling Ismail to a light sleep. 

He wakes up when Constantin walks past the bed to go put some clothes on, a cold breeze blowing Ismail’s hair as he walks with his gigantically long legs. 

“I thought we were coming back together…” Constantin says all of a sudden like Ismail was supposed to stay awake until he joins him in bed. Like that was something they discussed before going ot that stupid party, like Constantin wasn’t giving Ismail the cold shoulder for no reason the whole day. 

“I thought you only fucked Kieu My when I was with you two.” Ismail manages to say and not puke, making himself proud for half a second. 

He can hear how Constantin stops digging for some clothes inside his drawers and Ismail tries to stay still under his cover, acting like he doesn’t care. Constantin sighs, closing the drawer.

“You’re fucking overthinking things like you always do and making a huge scene so everyone can feel bad about you.” 

Ismail pushes all his weight down so he can change his position without making too much effort, almost lying on his belly if it wasn’t for the wall being so close to him. 

“Why do you care so fucking much all of a sudden, Ismail? For fuck’s sake, you didn’t use to be this sensitive.” Constantin complains and it blows Ismail’s drunk brain that he really doesn’t see where the problem is. He sits up on the bed and stops breathing for a second, swallowing back down the disgusting aftertaste of beer and tequila and cigarettes. His brain is pounding against his skull and Ismail keeps his eyes closed to see if it helps. 

“I talked to Zoe, they have a spare bedroom in their flat, I’ll move out as soon as possible.” 

“What?” Constantin finally sits down like his legs suddenly gave up on him with Ismail’s notification, “ _ What? _ ” 

He watches as Ismail grabs the bottle of water, drinking as much as he can at once to push down the horrible taste, suddenly aware of how thirsty he was, “Ismail!” 

He puts the plastic bottle back down, closing it. 

“I don’t want to stay here, it’s not your problem.” 

“Is, come on…” Constantin pushes himself to the middle of the bed, closer to Ismail, hoping he’ll meet his eyes but he doesn’t because his head hurts so much, “Please.” 

“I can’t stay. I overstayed already, I know that, and I’m sorry. I’ll talk to your parents tomorrow and apologize for all the trouble.” 

“Ismail, stop it! You’re not leaving. You’re not going to move in with  _ Zoe! _ You two would kill each other in no time.” 

They stay in silence and Ismail is glad Constantin can’t tell he’s lying. Not about the moving out because he really needs to. Living together is not working, not for Ismail, at least. He thought it would be paradise but it isn’t. 

“I’m the only one that can put up with your drama and mess.” Constantin tries to make a joke but it lands flat and he sighs, putting his hand closer to Ismail’s on the mattress, their index fingers almost touching. “I can’t let you go, there’s no way.” 

He says like he means it and maybe he does, but not the way Ismail wishes he did. Maybe Constantin is just scared of losing how easy and comfortable they are but Ismail is sure he can find that in someone else, where there aren’t that many feelings and past history envolved. 

“I like you, Constantin. Like stupid people like each other and we always make fun of them. I like you, and you don’t like me and so this won’t work for me, sorry. I’m leaving.” 

Ismail looks at him when he says it, and he sees the words fitting like puzzle pieces inside Constantin’s head. At least he knows now. 

  
  



End file.
